


Dead Wrong

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: All-New X-Factor, Avengers (Comics), Marvel (Comics), X-Factor (Comics)
Genre: a small hint of danger/wanda, implied remy/pietro, injury descriptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 18:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2398610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The X-Factor team faces their first serious injury, and what goes on in the hospital room definitely doesn't stay there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> I got a wonderful prompt on Tumblr for, well, what this fic is. I always appreciate some injury and angst.

“Pietro, what are you doing?!” 

“Running circles around everyone. What are you doing?” 

“Being sensible!” Lorna flung another twisted piece of metal at the Sentinel looming in the center of the room. 

“I seriously hate these things,” Remy said, chucking a charged up card at the Sentinel's head. The card exploded. The Sentinel, unfortunately, did not. 

Pietro attempted to punch a hole into the one of the Sentinel's legs. It swiped at him, but he darted out of the way. 

“Warlock,” Lorna said, “Doug. Please tell me you have a way to shut this thing down.” 

“The computers are heavily encrypted,” Doug said through the communication device. “We can get through the layers pretty easily but there's a lot of them. It'll take time.” 

“Which we don't have,” Lorna said. “Why Snow wants us to shut down Sentinels--” 

“Thought you left that with the X-Men, huh?” Remy said, with a smirk. “Danger--” he turned to his other teammate, who was creating hard-light projections as an attempt at a distraction. “How d'you feel about throwing me at that thing's face?” 

“Do you have a plan?” Danger asked. 

“Aim for the weak spot. It's worked before.” 

“Don't do that,” Pietro said, appearing at Remy's side. “I can run you up there, you'll be able to aim better, and Danger throwing anyone is a bad idea.” 

“I know you don't like robots, but now's not the time ta-”

“Guys,” Lorna broke in, smashing another part of the building into the Sentinel's body to almost no effect, “less fighting and more--”

“Fighting?” Pietro finished, smirking. Lorna glared at him. 

“I'll create a distraction,” Danger said, turning towards the Sentinel. “Quicksilver is right.” 

“Unfortunately,” Remy said. “So, Quicky--”

“Don't call me that--”

“Doug calls you that! Anyway, what am I--?” 

Pietro grabbed Remy and tossed him over his shoulder. Remy made a noise of protest, but a strange lurch and loss of balance told him that they'd started running. He grabbed a handful of cards from his pocket and started charging them. 

“Tell me when!” he yelled. 

“Not yet,” Pietro said. 

A blur of Sentinel, the cards were fully charged--

“N—argh!” 

A jerk, and Remy hit something solid. Pietro let go of him, and he realized he was on the shoulder of the Sentinel. And the Sentinel had grabbed Pietro in one giant hand. 

Electricity coursed up the Sentinel's arm, and before Remy could process what was happening, Pietro was screaming, his body convulsing as it coursed through him. Distantly, he heard Lorna shouting. He aimed his cards—if he could get that hand to release Pietro, drop him--

The Sentinel threw Pietro against the nearest wall before Remy could throw the cards. He hit with a bang and slid down. 

Lorna's voice broke through the shock. “His neck!” 

Remy turned and saw the juncture between the neck and the shoulder, the weaker bit that connected them. He tossed all of the cards at the spot; they exploded, and Remy somehow made his way back to the floor. 

The Sentinel swiped at Lorna, who jumped out of the way, and through his earpiece Remy heard Warlock say, “Dougfriend has done it!” 

The Sentinel stopped, mid-swipe, and fell over, crashing into the nearest wall and destroying it. 

Then, silence. 

“I'll retrieve the others,” Danger said. 

Remy made his way over to Lorna, who was watching Danger walk away. He touched her shoulder and she jerked, and he said, “Pietro.” 

“Shit.” Together, they made their way across the room to where Pietro was on the floor. “Shit,” Remy said again, because it looked bad. 

Pietro was sprawled on the floor, one of his arms at a strange angle. Blood sluggishly poured from his nose, and parts of his uniform were scorched. He looked too pale, and his breathing was ragged, struggling. 

“We need a hospital,” Remy said. 

“Serval has a med bay,” Lorna said. “We need to move him. Ah—this is going to be difficult. Carefully, so that we don't make things worse.” 

“It'll be fine,” Remy said. “Let's just get him out of here.” 

Lorna slid her hands under Pietro's upper body, and Remy supported his waist. They lifted him, and Lorna groaned. 

There was a large puddle of blood on the floor. 

“That,” Remy said, “would be my definition of worse.” 

**

The doctor at Serval gave them what sounded like a gruesome laundry list. “Cracked ribs, internal bleeding, broken arm, collapsed lung, lacerations, burns, and a lot of bruising.” This was after they hadn't been allowed to see him for three hours. They were in another room, waiting as the doctor and her staff worked on him. “He had a seizure shortly after you bought him in, and was bleeding heavily from one of his wounds. He's lost a good amount of blood.”

Lorna's jaw was clenched. Remy winced when he heard all of that. Danger was telling Warlock something, and Doug looked pale. 

“But is he okay now?” Lorna asked. 

“There's been some...difficulty in treating him,” the doctor said. 

“What difficulty?” Lorna snapped. Remy put his hand on her arm, just in case. 

“He has an extremely fast metabolism,” the doctor said. “We attempted to give him anesthetic because we had to do some operating, but his body goes through it too fast. The solution to this problem was to have a constant, strong dosage administered, but we had to be very careful, and the effects aren't known.” 

“Right,” Lorna said. “That's...thank you for doing what you can. Can we see him?” 

“Only two at a time,” the doctor said. 

Lorna grabbed Remy's arm. “Come on.” She dragged him into the other room. 

Pietro looked small in the hospital bed. There was a burn on his cheek, and an IV ran into the crook of his right arm, dripping liquid from various bags into his body. Lorna crept towards the bed and took one of Pietro's hands in hers. 

“First serious injury for the team,” Remy muttered. Lorna glared at him, but Remy shrugged. “It's true.” 

“I would rather it wasn't.” Lorna sighed and closed her eyes. “I feel like this is my fault.” 

“It wasn't,” Remy said. “It was a tough mission. There's always a risk associated with these things—”

“But the team leader takes responsibility,” Lorna said. “Always.” 

Remy glanced at Pietro. It was weird, seeing him not moving at all. “Well, the good thing is that all those people who've been bothering him after the press conference? They won't be able ta do that for some time.” 

“Because he's in the hospital,” Lorna said. 

“I'm trying ta help,” Remy said. 

Lorna sighed. “I know.” 

**

Lorna stayed at Pietro's side all evening and into the night. Remy brought her food, some of his special cooking, what he called comfort food. It was greasy and tasty and probably not at all healthy, but it was really comforting. At the very least, it took away the feeling Lorna had of something gnawing at the pit of her stomach. 

“My specialization is food,” Remy said. “And charm, but you already knew that.” 

“Please,” Lorna muttered. Pietro's hand twitched in hers. It'd been doing that for the last hour. 

“D'you think he dreams as fast as he runs?” Remy asked. 

“I don't know,” Lorna said. “I'm not a scientist. Do you throw cards in your sleep?” 

“Actually--” 

A groan interrupted both of them. Lorna looked down at Pietro and saw that his face was pinched. 

“Pietro?” 

Pietro groaned again and opened his eyes, slowly, focusing on Remy. “I'm in hell,” he rasped. 

“Hey!” Remy glared at him. 

“You're at Serval,” Lorna said. “Not dead yet.” 

Slowly, Pietro moved his gaze to her. His eyes seemed clouded, not as sharp as they usually were. “What...?” 

“You got injured on the mission,” Lorna said. “The Sentinel, you remember that? It kind of electrocuted you and threw you into a wall.” 

“And by kind of she means it definitely did,” Remy added. “You got fried pretty good. I bet your brain's still like scrambled eggs—ouch!” Lorna had nudged him, hard, with her elbow. 

Pietro just blinked at both of them. “Eggs,” he repeated after a moment. 

“I can't tell if this is the drugs or the injuries,” Lorna said. 

At this point, the Serval doctor (and Lorna felt bad for not knowing her name) swept into the room and said, “We'll have to take him off the drugs in order to ascertain how he functions as a result of his injuries.” She started messing with the IV bags. 

“Pietro, this is your doctor,” Lorna said. “Doctor--”

“Stein,” the doctor said. 

“Right, Doctor Stein, and—oh, well then.” When she looked down Pietro's eyes had shut again. 

Remy moved past Lorna to lean against the wall next to the bed. “So, Doctor Stein, what're you up to tonight?” 

“Taking care of the patient,” Stein answered. 

Lorna grabbed Remy by the arm and dragged him outside. “I wouldn't risk it. She could be the bosses' wife.” 

Remy groaned. “Are you ever gonna let that go?” 

“Not a chance.” 

**

Lorna took the next few hours to shower, nap, and debrief Snow about the mission because she hadn't when they'd gotten back. She took Remy with her for that part, because Snow always seemed really annoyed whenever things didn't go according to plan. 

He was oddly calm about this mission in particular, however. Lorna had the feeling he was still a bit angry that Pietro was on the team after his confession during their press conference. 

“You tell Wanda?” Remy asked after they left and were making their way back to the medical ward. 

“Um,” Lorna said. She hadn't, because she still wasn't sure how to deal with Wanda, her sort-of-but-didn't-really-feel-like-it-sister. 

“I would,” Remy said, “if I were you. Before she finds out some other way and gets pissed off. Wanda pissed off is terrifying.” 

“I'll send her a text,” Lorna said. 

“You can't--”

“I'll send someone over, then,” Lorna said. “I don't know how to talk to her. So sue me!” She took out her phone and sent a message to Danger, asking her to send a message to Wanda about Pietro. She figured Danger wouldn't mind; she quite liked Wanda. 

“Your family is so screwed up,” Remy said. “It's a wonder any of y'all even talk to each other.” 

“Shut up,” Lorna muttered. “Although—I don't think Pietro and Wanda have actually talked in some time.” 

“This'll be fun,” Remy said. “Hardship brings out the best in everyone.” 

**

Wanda arrived sometime around breakfast with Danger. “Danger escorted me from the Avengers headquarters,” she said when Lorna asked how she'd gotten there. 

Lorna stared at Danger. “I didn't tell you to go to New York! I told you to send a message.” 

“I felt that such a message would be best delivered in person,” Danger said. 

“Whatever.” Lorna ran a hand through her hair. She looked over at Pietro on the bed and saw that he was awake and staring at the ceiling. “Well, he's awake. Just in time.” 

“What happened?” Wanda asked, keeping her distance. 

“He got electrocuted and tossed around by a Sentinel,” Lorna said. “I hate those things. Coffee?” 

“No thanks.” Wanda moved to the bedside, opposite Lorna. “Pietro, are you okay?” 

Pietro glanced at her and shook his head. Lorna noticed that his hands were clutching at the thin blanket they'd given him. 

“What's wrong?” she asked. 

“Pain,” Pietro choked. 

“Doctor Stein's been trying to figure out how much medicine she can safely give you,” Lorna said. “But also, she wanted to figure out how you are when you aren't drugged out of your mind.” 

Doctor Stein came into the room, saw Pietro, and nodded. “I have to ask you a few questions.” 

Pietro made a noise that sounded like a whimper. Lorna said, “He's in a lot of pain.” 

“I know,” Stein said. “This will be quick. Pietro, focus on me.” Pietro looked at her. A tear slid down his cheek. 

She asked him a few questions, simple things like his name, where he was, his birthday, all of which he answered. After she was done, she took a few notes and said, “I've figured out a good way of delivering pain medication, so I'll set that up.” She left again. 

Wanda took Pietro's hand. “You can squeeze my hand if you want.” 

“Wanda,” Pietro rasped. 

“You should probably squeeze her hand,” Lorna said. “Or both our hands. If you want my hand, too. Or I can get Remy, because I know how much you want to hurt him on a regular basis.” 

Pietro closed his eyes and swallowed. He didn't squeeze either of their hands. After a moment he murmured, “I feel sick.” 

“Probably the pain,” Lorna said, “but Doctor Stein will be right--” 

Pietro lurched to the side and retched. Wanda didn't react in time, and he threw up what little he had in his stomach on her red Avengers uniform. Lorna hesitantly put a comforting hand on Pietro's back until he was done and had fallen against the pillows. 

Doctor Stein came in and took one look at Wanda, Lorna, and Pietro and sighed. “We have basins for that, you know.” 

“It was kind of sudden,” Lorna said. “And I didn't know.” 

Stein placed the bags of medication she'd been holding on the counter and handed Lorna some paper towels. “For the floor. You,” she pointed to Wanda, “might want to change.” 

Wanda still looked a bit stunned. Lorna tossed her the paper towels and she caught them, but not before nearly dropping them on Pietro's head. 

And Pietro seemed to have passed out again. 

**

“Lorna, what's going on?” 

Lorna looked up from the book she was reading. Pietro was watching her, brows drawn together in confusion. His eyes looked a little glazed, but that was probably the drugs. Stein had shown Lorna, Remy, and Wanda how to change the rate at which the drugs were administered in order to give him a stronger or weaker dose if needed when she wasn't around. Lorna didn't ask what else she was doing, because it was probably top secret Serval stuff. Occasionally, one of her nurses would look in. 

“You're injured. How do you feel?” 

“I-I don't know,” Pietro said. His voice was still hoarse. “I—was Wanda here?” 

“Yeah,” Lorna said, “but she went out with Danger to get some new clothes. You threw up on her.” 

“What!” Pietro attempted to sit up, but cried out in pain and fell back against the bed. 

“Don't worry, you didn't scare her off for good,” Lorna said. 

“We have to talk,” Pietro rasped. “You don't understand. I have to talk to her.” 

“And you will,” Lorna said. “But if you reopen your injuries because you're worried we'll both kill you.” 

“Lorna--” 

“Pietro.” 

Pietro sighed. “Fine.” 

“Good,” Lorna said. “Now, do you want anything while we wait? Water? Reading material?” 

“This is fine,” Pietro said. He closed his eyes. 

“Right,” Lorna said. “Fine.” 

Half an hour later, Lorna was still reading and Remy came in with a cup of coffee and a sweet looking pastry. “I like ta think I'm a sweet guy,” he said with a grin. 

“You're not,” Pietro muttered from the bed. 

“Oh, he's awake!” Remy sat on the bed and Pietro groaned. “I heard you gave Wanda quite the greeting this morning.” 

“Shut up,” Pietro said. 

“She said it wasn't the first time,” Remy added. 

“Remy,” Pietro said, “if you don't stop talking I'll be sick on you, too.” 

“I'm just saying.” Remy grinned. “Anyway, how's the pain?” 

“Fine,” Pietro said. “It's fine. Is she back yet?” 

“I dunno,” Remy said with a shrug. “You're a lot more awake than you've been the last few times I've been here.” 

“It's called healing,” Pietro said. “I want to see her.” 

“She'll come back,” Lorna said, poking at the pastry. “Stop worrying.” 

“I can't,” Pietro said. “I have nothing better to do.” 

Remy gave Lorna a look. Lorna sighed and turned to the IV bags. 

“You can read,” Remy suggested, while Lorna fiddled with the IV. “You can listen ta music. Watch TV. What's that show you watch? The one with the English people who're always complaining about stuff.” 

“Top Gear,” Pietro said. 

“Nah, the other one,” Remy said, “where they're all dressed nice.” Lorna stopped playing around with the IV, apparently satisfied. 

“Downton Abbey,” Pietro said, frowning. “Why is my arm burning?” 

“Side effect,” Remy said quickly. “Of waking up.” 

“I'll go see if Wanda's around,” Lorna said. “Don't move.” 

“I hate you,” Pietro said. Lorna grabbed her pastry and coffee and headed out. 

Remy glanced at Pietro. “So it's just you and me. Tell me--”

“My arm is burning,” Pietro said, frowning. “I don't—did you do something?” 

“I've been sitting here the whole time,” Remy said. “And you've been watching me, so no, I haven't done anything. Weird stuff happens when you're recovering from an injury. I remember one time I broke my arm, and the cast itched something awful, and when they took it off, my arm had shriveled up a bit, all pale and small.” 

“My other arm is broken,” Pietro said, slurring the words a little. 

Remy grimaced. Lorna must've really upped the dose on the pain meds. “Yeah, well, you got burns all over you, and I'm sure that electrocution wasn't good for your nerves.” 

“You-you're not a doctor,” Pietro pointed out. “You don't know.” 

“Like you could do any better,” Remy said. “I'm just trying ta make you feel better.” 

“Why?” Pietro asked. “You hate me. You were right about me when you said I was evil.”

“I don't hate-hate you,” Remy said. “Just a little. You're an ass.” 

“You're the ass,” Pietro muttered. “Get off my bed.” 

“It's not your bed,” Remy said, sliding up the bed a bit. Pietro glared at him, but it wasn't nearly as convincing as it should've been. “Just relax a little. I'm serious. You need ta stay still in order ta heal.” 

“You're right,” Pietro said. He looked surprised at himself. “I suppose you're not as useless as I say you are.” 

Remy cast a glance at the IV bags, but he couldn't tell exactly how much Lorna had messed with them. “You know, I thought you'd be quieter.” 

“I can't feel my nose,” Pietro said. 

“You're not touching it,” Remy pointed out. 

“Oh.” Pietro glanced at the empty chair beside his bed. “I feel strange. Can you understand me? My mouth seems to be...moving rather slow. Everything is rather slow.” 

“You sound like a normal person,” Remy said. Which was true. Other than slurring his words, Pietro was talking at a normal speed. Maybe a little slow, but Remy was from the south. He knew all about slow, and he knew how much slower it could get. 

“Do you ever really understand what I'm saying?” Pietro asked. 

Weird question. “Unfortunately.” Remy felt something cool on his hand and looked down to see that Pietro had put his own hand on top of Remy's, and was attempting to close his fingers around Remy's hand like he was trying to hold it. 

It was a simple touch, and one that Pietro probably didn't mean given the way he was looking at Remy's hand like it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen, but it felt nice. It'd been a long time since Remy had just held hands with someone, and it was easy to forget what that sort of simple thing was like. 

He also wasn't gonna let Pietro forget it. 

“Your hand is soft,” Pietro murmured. “You're not so terrible.” 

He definitely wasn't going to let Pietro forget it. 

“I'll remember that,” was all he said. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Remy thinking about how Lorna would react if she came into the room and they were holding hands. She'd probably start laughing and make fun of both of them. He was thinking of letting go when Pietro's fingers tightened. 

“I feel sick,” he said. 

“Right.” Remy jumped up to get the basin, but Pietro retched before he even had a chance to move away, and Remy felt warm liquid running down his side. “Shit.” 

Pietro coughed, and gasped, “Sorry.” And then threw up again. 

“Somehow I don't believe you,” Remy muttered. Pietro didn't answer. His face was overly pale and pinched with pain. “Right. You're gonna get a reputation, you know.” 

“For what?” Pietro asked weakly. He'd fallen back against the pillows and his eyes were shut like he was desperately wishing for unconsciousness. 

“A lot of things at this rate,” Remy said. He found the disinfectant and the paper towels, and he placed a basin on the table next to the bed because why hadn't they done that earlier? At this point, he wasn't sure whether to blame Lorna. She'd probably overdosed him. 

When he finished cleaning, well, everything, he checked on Pietro again. Pietro still looked a cross between hurting and nauseous, and it made Remy feel bad despite himself. “I might let you forget about it for a few hours,” he muttered, and then, because he was a chump, he ran his hand through Pietro's hair. 

Pietro relaxed into the touch, the lines of pain in his face smoothing away. “That's nice,” he murmured. 

Remy kept stroking his hair until he'd fallen asleep. 

**

“Lorna!” 

Pietro had slept for the rest of that day and night, but the following morning, when Lorna walked in with Wanda, he was awake and glaring at her. 

“What, Pietro?” she asked. “Aren't you happy to see me? I have Wanda.” 

Pietro's expression softened a bit at seeing Wanda, who said, “It's good to see you awake.” 

“Well, I'm not being pumped full of too much morphine,” Pietro said, with another pointed glare in Lorna's direction, “so I can actually function.” 

“You seemed like you needed it,” Lorna muttered. “I'll leave you two alone, then.” 

Wanda strode across the room and sat in the chair next to the bed. Pietro said, “It is nice to see you. It's been too long.” 

“I wish it were under better circumstances,” Wanda said. “You need to be more careful.” 

“I am careful,” Pietro said. “Accidents happen. We've both been doing this long enough to know that.” 

“This is true,” Wanda agreed. The silence that followed was strange. They'd always had things to say to each other. 

“I heard you offered Lorna a place on the Avengers,” Pietro said. 

“Yes,” Wanda said. “She would be a good fit.” 

“But not a leader, like she is here,” Pietro said. He frowned. “You didn't ask to see me when you came to see her. Why?” 

“Why did you lie to me?” Wanda countered. “I thought you trusted me enough to tell me everything. We've always told each other everything, and then you lied about hurting and killing others and stealing the crystals from the Inhumans and--”

“It wasn't a good time,” Pietro interrupted, “I wasn't well, and you'd disappeared. I was alone. By the time you came back--”

“Are you blaming me?” Wanda asked. 

Pietro took a deep breath. “No,” he said. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't make excuses. I didn't think you'd like the person that I'd become. I thought, if I could change, if I could move past it...I thought lying was the only way to do that. But I was wrong. I needed to take responsibility. I needed to stop running.” 

Wanda nodded. “I was angry at you,” she said. “I thought I didn't know you anymore because you didn't want me to.” 

“I am ashamed at what I've done,” Pietro admitted. “At the time, I wasn't. I thought I was in the right. But after...there is so much I regret.” He swallowed. “I regret that I've almost lost you because of my decisions. I can't stand to lose you.” 

“You haven't,” Wanda said, taking Pietro's hand in her own. “Pietro, we haven't lost each other.” 

Pietro clutched her hand and nodded. 

He could have cried with relief. 

**

“So in the past few days you've thrown up on me and Wanda,” Remy said, “you've waxed philosophical about your speaking skills, and you held my hand for a good five minutes and let me play with your hair. Just so you know.” 

Pietro glared at him from the bed, where he was propped up on a mound of pillows. He looked better than he had in the past few days. 

“First of all,” he said, “I was under the influence of the huge amount of drugs that Lorna decided to give me for some reason.”

“You needed ta relax,” Remy said. 

“Second of all,” Pietro continued, “I don't remember any of that.” 

“Oh really?” Remy said, raising an eyebrow. “Because I remember it clearly. And I'm sure the cameras that Serval has in this room will back me up. Are you sure you don't remember anything?” 

“I held Wanda's hand,” Pietro said. 

“Not what I asked.” 

“Why are you here?” Pietro snapped. “I can't recover in your presence. You won't be quiet for five seconds.” 

“You were doing most of the talking before,” Remy said. “But fine. I'll be back. See if your memory's caught up with you.” He glanced at the IV bags. “Are you sure you don't want me ta--?”

“Don't you dare,” Pietro growled. 

“You were a lot more pleasant,” Remy pointed out. 

“I'm going to kill you,” Pietro said. 

Remy grinned. “You can't even get out of bed.” 

“When I do,” Pietro started, but Remy left the room before he could finish. He could hear Pietro cursing from behind the door. 

“Too slow,” Remy called back. 

He was going to be in so much trouble once Pietro fully healed.


End file.
